


In Nothing Else So Happy

by StarsCrackedOpen (Misthia)



Series: Things Carried, Unseen [19]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Culture, Best Friends, Comfort Food, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Jedi Training (Star Wars), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Nostalgia, Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Pre-Relationship, References to Mortis Arc (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misthia/pseuds/StarsCrackedOpen
Summary: Anakin saw that the chain that laid between her montrals was twisted. “It’s turned around. Here, just —”He stepped over to Ahsoka and started to gently untwist the links and strands for her. As he rearranged it, Ahsoka spoke, careful to hold still as he worked. “So where are we going?”Or: In which Anakin has concerns and Ahsoka has questions, but it’s Obi-Wan’s birthday, so they take him out for dinner.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Things Carried, Unseen [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839160
Comments: 26
Kudos: 144





	In Nothing Else So Happy

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not dead and neither is this series!
> 
> I’m sorry for the looooong delay. As I mentioned, I had finals, but less than a week before those I was in a pretty serious car accident, and my vehicle rolled. While I walked away just bruised and sore, it put a damper on a lot of things for a while. This is a long one-shot to make up for the wait!
> 
> I actually started this piece back before Thanksgiving, but with everything else it just took forever to finish. Takes place in season 4ish, definitely post-Mortis. It’s kind of more of a Trio piece, but definitely has specific moments relating to the overall theme of this series and Anakin and Ahsoka’s dynamic in particular.
> 
> As ever, can be seen as pre-relationship (which wouldn’t be until after apprenticeship) or not; tagging as usual. As ever, I own nothing. More notes at the end.

* * *

_“I count myself in nothing else so happy_   
_As in a soul remembering my good friends.”_

_\- William Shakespeare, Richard II, Act II, Scene III_

* * *

Anakin exhaled in relief as the transport’s hatch opened and revealed his padawan.

Ahsoka caught sight of him, expression brightening, and turned briefly to wave at the two knights she’d accompanied on the mission. Anakin rakedthem over with a critical eye as she made her way down to him, bag slung over her shoulder.

“Master. I didn’t expect you to come down to meet me.” She grinned. “Missed me that much?”

He smiled in spite of himself. Side by side, they made their way out of the hangar and towards the residences.

“Just wanted to make sure you made it back all right. When they lost your ship in the ion storm for two rotations...” He shrugged lightly, hiding how worried he’d really been. “ _Really_ I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t have to break in a new padawan.”

Ahsoka laughed softly and nudged his shoulder. “I’m just glad in the end we were only delayed two rotations and not three. I wouldn’t want to miss tonight.”

It registered now to Anakin that she really _did_ look tired. “The mission was successful?”

She sighed. “Mostly. But I’m not sure it’ll be enough.” Her fatigue was clear in the lines of her face, and she briefly rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“You’ll have to tell me about it later. For now you should get some rest.”

Ahsoka yawned, nodding. “I’m going to crash harder than our last landing on Bardelberan.”

“Hey, it wasn’t _me_ that time. Obi-Wan was piloting.”

Ahsoka shot him a look that was somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Because _you_ were unconscious and _I_ was patching you up. Besides, that was engine malfunction, not pilot error.”

Anakin’s smirk became a grimace as they rounded the corner to her hallway. “Don’t remind me. As soon as I came to I was hearing about what a death trap the Twilight is.” The gripe had no bite, and there was fondness in his tone. Ahsoka smiled.

“He waited until you were out of the medbay this time.”

They’d reached her door. He chuckled and patted her on the back. “Sleep well, Snips. I’ll comm you when it’s time.”

She smiled again, tiredly, and entered her quarters. Anakin turned and headed for his own.

* * *

Several hours later, Anakin set aside the mouse droid he was modifying and stretched. He checked the chrono and then walked over and keyed the comm, pinging Ahsoka.

He waited. No answer. He tried again.

She sounded distant and a bit fuzzy. _“Mmyeah?”_

“It’s time for us to go get Obi-Wan. Ready?”

A moment of silence, and then muffled movement and her voice, clearer now: _“Um, almost —”_

Rustling noises now, and Anakin paused. “Did I wake you up?”

_“...Yes. I guess I...overslept.”_

He smirked. “Well, look alive, Snips. I’m on my way.”

More rustling, a quiet thud, and then the comm cut out. Anakin decided to give her a five minute head start. He still had grease to scrub off anyway.

* * *

Down on Ahsoka’s floor, fingernails finally clean, Anakin rang her chime. The response was a very muffled, “Come in!”

He stepped inside, taking in the small quarters. Ahsoka’s bag sat on her tousled bed, looking half-unpacked, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Anakin frowned. “Snips?”

“In here, hang on—” From inside the fresher he heard what sounded like water running, then something falling and Ahsoka mumbling.

Anakin wandered over to the small living area and leaned against the wall, toeing absently at the akul pelt laid as a rug — the same akul Ahsoka had hunted herself at thirteen. Privately he’d always thought its color a little garish, but it _was_ soft.

Another couple of minutes passed, and Anakin was getting antsy. “Hey Ahsoka—”

The fresher door slid open and she nearly skidded out in a puff of steam. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, clipping on her headband and sweeping the beads back. “Sorry, Master.”

He took in the slight dark circles under her eyes and frowned. “You sure you’re up for this?”

She nodded. Anakin saw that the chain that laid between her montrals was twisted. He pointed vaguely at his own head. “Your—”

Her hand came up and hovered over one peak for a moment as she looked at him with some confusion. “...What?”

“It’s turned around. Here, just —” Anakin stepped over to Ahsoka and started to gently untwist the links and strands for her.

As he rearranged it, Ahsoka spoke, careful to hold still as he worked. “So where are we going?”

“A Mandalorian place a couple of levels down. Apparently it’s something of a local secret.”

Ahsoka glanced up, a little surprised. “ _Mandalorian?_ I didn’t know Obi-Wan likes Mandalorian food.”

Her headband straightened, Anakin stepped back and shrugged. “He spent some time there as a padawan. Guess he developed a taste for the...cuisine.” There was a hint of a smile around the corners of his mouth, and Ahsoka looked at him curiously. She sensed there was more to the story, but her master didn’t elaborate further. She followed him out the door.

“This will be a nice surprise for him. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you arrange it.”

Anakin shrugged. “You couldn’t help the last-minute assignment, or the delay getting back.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “And in the end they didn’t even need a Shyriiwook translator. They could have sent any other padawan.”

“I wish they had.”

Ahsoka’s eyes shot over to him, uncertain how to take that. “Planning dinner was really that bad, huh?” He didn’t respond, and so she sighed and responded more seriously. “You know I can handle myself, Skyguy. I learned from you.”

He shrugged again. The stiffness of his shoulders belied his annoyance. “I don’t doubt _you_ , Ahsoka. I just don’t like it when the council lends you out for some of these missions.”

“‘ _Lends me out?_ ’” Ahsoka looked at him with some distaste. “I’m not a spare lightsaber, Master.”

He nodded. “Exactly. Sometimes it seems like they see you that way. I don’t like it.”

Ahsoka suppressed another sigh. After a moment of her expectant silence, he elaborated.

“You’re one of the most advanced padawans in the Order, Ahsoka, but you’re still a padawan. Sending you into the field with a master, _fine_. Sending you on a scouting mission with a couple of newly minted knights is different. I’ve never even met them, I don’t know if they’re capable, and I don’t want you to get hurt if they take unnecessary risks.”

Ahsoka chose not to comment on the _intense_ irony of Anakin criticizing others’ risk-taking. Still.

“I _didn’t_ get hurt. And you and I take risks all the time,” she pointed out.

He frowned. “That’s different.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to reply, but they’d arrived at Obi-Wan’s quarters. Anakin hit the chime, and after a moment, Obi-Wan appeared. “Good evening, you two.”

“Ready?” Obi-Wan nodded and stepped out. Anakin led them towards the docking stations.

“I’m glad to see you made it back to Coruscant in time to join us,” Obi-Wan said, turning to Ahsoka. She smiled.

“I am too,” she said, and then added, “I’m excited for some real food.” He returned her smile and turned to Anakin.

“Speaking of, you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“That’s because it’s a surprise,” said Anakin patiently. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve never been there before.”

Anakin had predictably reserved one of the faster speeders. The night was warm, and so he left the top down. Ahsoka noticed that he was even keeping to the speed limits and taking no unnecessary sudden turns; she supposed that was also in honor of Obi-Wan’s birthday.

They cruised through neighborhoods and levels that Ahsoka wasn’t familiar with, before emerging to a cluster of residential-looking buildings off a main thoroughfare. A courtyard stretched between them, and it all was aged and worn, but clearly cared for.

“Here we are,” said Anakin, pulling them in with a small flourish.

Hopping out of the speeder, Ahsoka looked at the building. It appeared to be one of the countless nondescript buildings on the ecumenopolis, with an orange door and no facade. There was only a small, faded sign that read _Epar’yaim._

The word was familiar, somehow — she’d heard the clones use it. Ahsoka cast back, trying to remember what it meant.

Canteen.

_Ahh._

They trooped inside, and Ahsoka took in the surroundings. It didn’t look like most restaurants she’d been to, more like someone’s house. It was small, and a little dim, curtains blocking most of the sunlight, but lamps along the wall provided a soft glow. There were only a half dozen tables. All were bare but for one in the corner, set for three, a booth curving around it.

It felt cozy. The scent of aromatic spices and cooking meat filled the air. It intensified as an inner door opened and a tall, lean man in an apron emerged from the hallway in the corner. He looked to be expecting them.

“Ahhh, you must be my dinner guests. Welcome.” He looked them over, taking measure with what Ahsoka recognized as a soldier’s eye. He stopped at Anakin. “You’ll be the one I spoke with before. And so _you_ ,” He looked at Obi-Wan here. “Must be the friend who has an old love of Mandalorian food.” Obi-Wan nodded, ever polite, extending a hand.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The man smiled, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder before clasping Obi-Wan’s forearm. “Oburr Craal. Please, do sit.”

He gestured broadly to the table set for them and they slid in. Oburr crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “You’re all Jedi?”

To her left, almost imperceptibly, Ahsoka felt Anakin tense. The war was growing more and more unpopular, and Jedi along with it. Out of habit, she lifted her left heel, shifting her on-hand saber to a slightly better angle to draw.

“Yes, we are,” replied Obi-Wan, cordially.

Oburr simply nodded, looking thoughtful. “It’s not often I get Jedi here. In fact, I think you’re the first.” Ahsoka felt Anakin relax again, and her heel settled back on the floor. Oburr continued.

“Your friend here has arranged for a full spread of the traditional small plates — _skraan’ikase_ — as well as more. I am guessing you’ve had enough of rations.” He smiled. “He has left the menu up to me. I think you’ll be pleased with what I’ve made. I’ll bring you some _ne’tra gal_ and then we’ll start.”

He nodded at them, and returned to the kitchen. Obi-Wan looked astonished, and a little touched. “This...is quite the surprise. How did you find this place?”

Anakin shrugged, clearly pleased with himself. “I have my sources.”

Oburr returned with bread and a large chipped ceramic jug he placed on the table, and then was gone again. Obi-Wan poured for each of them. Ahsoka sniffed it and then took a sip. It was a thick black ale, almost _sweet_.

Noise from the hallway, and Oburr emerged, accompanied by a wiry elderly woman. They arrived at the table with more than a half dozen small plates and bowls between them.

“This is the _skraan’ikase_ ,” said Oburr. “Settle in, this meal will be served in the traditional Mandalorian celebratory manner, no rushing through as one must with rations.” They placed the dishes on the table, and left again.

Ahsoka took it all in. There were a few meats, fried balls of... _something_ , as well as what looked like stuffed leaves, and cheeses. Finishing it off were the bowls with what looked like pastes and dips.

She reached out towards the plate nearest her. It had thick rounds of what looked like sausage, with different sauces topping each. She speared one that had a dollop in an appealing shade of bright green, and popped it in her mouth. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened.

“No, Ahsoka, wait—”

It was too late.

She dropped her fork, pressing her hands to her cheekbones as she swallowed hard. Through her fingers her eyes were watering, the blue of her lekku vibrant.

Anakin didn’t bother hiding his amusement as he pushed the _gal_ over to her. “You all right there, Snips?”

“Wasn’t...expecting...” She exhaled hard, hands muffling her voice. “It’s in my _face_.”

Obi-Wan passed her a napkin, smiling almost apologetically. “Yes, the Mandalorians call that feeling _hetikles_ — ‘noseburn.’”

“I can see why,” she remarked, wiping her eyes. “It’s good, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so.... _strong_.”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” said Anakin, looking entirely too entertained.

Before she could retort, Oburr had returned with another tray of dishes. These were slightly larger. There was a bowl of roasted vegetables, a plate of sliced seared meat that made her mouth water, and then a clearly spicy casserole of some kind. The scent was sharp enough that she could smell the heat of the seasoning. Ahsoka eyed it a little warily as it was set down, nose tingling. “What is that?”

“It’s _tiingilar_ ,” said Obi-Wan, spooning some onto his plate, and then passing it to Anakin. Anakin looked slightly apprehensively at the steaming dish, and then up at Ahsoka.

“Want to try some, Snips?” She smiled back teasingly.

“After you, _Master_.” He huffed slightly, then not only served himself, but also Ahsoka. She made a face at him. “Guess we’ll try it together. Like I said, it can’t be that bad. Ready?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Obi-Wan hide a smile.

It was a completely different burn than the last. Where that had lingered in the sinuses, sharp and bright, this was straight fire in the mouth. Ahsoka, having learned from the last time, had taken a smaller bite, and so she inhaled hard and took a swig of _gal_ and was able to manage.

Anakin had charged into it as he did so many things; here, with a full fork. Ahsoka watched him struggle to swallow, and then almost hiccup. Color rose high in his cheeks, and then he tossed back his entire cup of _gal_ , eyes watering. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan slid a napkin over to him as well, and Ahsoka giggled.

“What was that you were saying?” Anakin’s only reply was a breathless cough.

Obi-Wan took a bite of his own, and they both watched intently. He didn’t so much as blink. Catching their astonished looks, he said, “It’s very good. It’s been years since I’ve had _tiingilar_ , and this is exceptional.”

Anakin still looked to be catching his breath, and Ahsoka chortled as she pushed the jug of _gal_ back over to him. He shot her a glare, but the effect was somewhat dampened by the pinkness of his cheeks. She smiled sweetly back, and then helped herself to another piece of the sausage, this time careful to cut it up. She placed one smaller piece in her mouth, and in this more measured way the feeling of noseburn was still sharp, but pleasant. She’d never had anything like it before.

Obi-Wan looked at her approvingly. “Trying it again?”

“I think I like it,” she said, savoring the sensation. Obi-Wan nodded, helping himself to one of the stuffed leaves.

“Most of the time we spent on Mandalore was on the run, and we ate rations. This is a feast.” Something like nostalgia colored his smile. “The first time I tried _tiingilar_ , we were hiding out in the basement of a tavern in a small town in the northern reaches, en route to our transport off-world. We hadn’t eaten in almost three rotations, so when we were handed a hot meal I didn’t think twice before digging in. My reaction was much like yours, Anakin, much to the amusement of the duchess and my master.”

Ahsoka looked up, surprised. “Duchess Satine?” She hadn’t heard this story before.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard as he remembered. “Yes. Master Jinn and I were sent to protect her during the Mandalorian Civil War, but it quickly became clear the only way to do that was get off-world. Before we could accomplish that, however, we spent about three weeks on the run, until we could find safe transport.” He refilled his cup. “I still think she didn’t warn me about the blistering spice for her own entertainment. By the time we got off Mandalore, I’d had it several more times and had developed something of a taste for it.”

Oburr reappeared with a corked bottle of a clear liquid and three shot glasses. He set one down in front of each of them, filling Obi-Wan and Anakin’s. He paused at Ahsoka’s, regarding her curiously.

“You fight in the war too, yes?”

Ahsoka nodded, a little wary. Oburr smiled.

“If you’re old enough to fight, you’re old enough for _tihaar_.” He filled the final shot glass, clapped her on the back, and disappeared again.

Anakin raised his glass, and Ahsoka followed suit. “Here’s to you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan raised his own, smiling gently. “Thank you both. I couldn’t ask for better company.”

Ahsoka tipped hers back with them. The burn traveled down her throat and mellowed to pleasant heat in her chest.

The feasting resumed. Everything was delicious. Anakin slid over the platter of sliced and spiced meat that had caught her eye earlier. It was encrusted in something peppery and was _very_ rare, much to her delight. She’d found that most cultures overcooked their meats. 

Obi-Wan told stories from his padawan days, including ones that even Anakin had never heard before. Ahsoka lost track of time in her enjoyment. Another course came out, and then desserts, and another shot of the _tihaar_. By the end of the meal she’d forgotten her earlier exhaustion. The little restaurant, empty but for them, felt far removed from everything else. Their companionship resonated in the Force, and in the bond between herself and her master she felt his unusual ease.

Only when they finally stepped back out into the world, Oburr waving and telling them to come back soon, did time seem to resume. Ahsoka emerged first. A warm breeze whipped past, tickling her montrals, and she looked out at the city, feeling full and bright with good food and laughter and a night removed from endless conflict. She savored it, turning to see her master and her master’s master right behind her, both looking more relaxed than she’d seen them in months. The sunset, late this time of year, lit everything with a faint glow and warmed her skin.

Unbidden, a memory floated up. _“We’ll be fine, as long as we stick together.”_

She felt it ring true in the Force.

On the trip back to the temple, Anakin and Obi-Wan bickered good-naturedly about absolutely nothing. In the backseat, Ahsoka listened to this familiar back-and-forth fondly. She closed her eyes, turned her face to the setting sun, and smiled.

* * *

When they’d returned to the temple docking station and disembarked, Obi-Wan put a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Thank you both for a lovely evening.” He turned to Anakin, and Ahsoka could see the fondness in his eyes. “I appreciate you arranging this for me.”

Anakin smiled, _genuinely_ smiled, warm and bright as Ahsoka felt. He clasped his old master’s shoulder, and then turned and got back into the speeder. Ahsoka looked at him quizzically. “Where are _you_ going?”

“I have plans,” he said, with a suspiciously straight face. Ahsoka threw a knowing look over her shoulder and waved as she turned to follow Obi-Wan.

The Jedi master smiled as she joined him. “Well, Ahsoka, what did you think?”

“It was very good,” she answered truthfully. “It wasn’t what I expected. When I was on Mandalore, the food was very different than what we had tonight.”

“Yes — what we had tonight isn’t what they usually serve to off-worlders, or at diplomatic functions. This was what Mandalorians eat at home, or in local taverns and celebrations.”

Ahsoka’s eyes flickered over to him. “You said you went there with Master Jinn?”

“Yes.” He _hmm_ ’ed, looking nostalgic. “That was a long time ago.”

“I wish I could have met him,” Ahsoka said quietly.

Obi-Wan smiled, but it was tinged with melancholy. “I wish you could have as well. He would have liked you. Qui-Gon Jinn was a wise man, and I wonder sometimes how things might have been different, were he still alive.” He sighed, and Ahsoka watched him, a little surprised at his candor. After a moment the corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth tugged back upwards and the melancholy seemed to pass. “Though he never quite took to the flavors of traditional Mandalorian cookery.”

Ahsoka giggled. “I thought steam was going to come out of Anakin’s ears when he tried the _tiingilar_.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Perhaps I should have warned him. But after all, padawan, some lessons are best learned oneself, wouldn’t you agree?” He looked over at her, and Ahsoka was delighted to see _mischief_ in his face.

They had reached his doorstep. She would have to ask him more another time.

“Happy birthday, Master Kenobi,” she said warmly.

“Thank you, my dear. Come by for tea sometime, and...” He smiled back, eyes gentle. “I’ll tell you more about Qui-Gon Jinn.”

She nodded, beaming, and Obi-Wan clasped her shoulder, squeezing gently before disappearing into his quarters. Ahsoka meandered back to her own, with the strange, soft feeling that she missed someone she’d never met.

* * *

Ahsoka was curled up reading when her chime rang for the second time that evening. She glanced up in surprise, knowing full well who it was before answering the door. “Master?”

Anakin stood there, looking restless. “Hey Snips.” She looked him over, one brow marking arched in question.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had...plans.”

A flicker of frustration crossed his face, and then he shrugged, glancing at the ceiling. Her brow arched higher. “...They fell through. But, I still have the airspeeder for the night. And I have nothing else to do, so...” He shrugged, the restlessness becoming more apparent in his body language. “Let’s go flying.”

She regarded him for a moment. There was something like mischief in his eyes, and she nodded, reaching for her boots. “All right.”

He blinked, expression brightening, and she suddenly had the odd impression he hadn’t fully expected her to agree. “Come on.” Before she could respond he’d turned and started down the corridor.

She hopped out the last couple of steps from her quarters, fastening the last buckle of her left boot. Anakin was already halfway down the hall and she lengthened her stride to catch up. He _was_ in a mood, and Ahsoka had her suspicions as to _why_ , but now certainly wasn’t the time to ask.

He led her back to the same dock, and she clambered into the passenger’s side, buckling in. “So, Master. Where we flying to?”

He shrugged, focused on starting the engine and adjusting the controls. “Hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

Ahsoka stretched back in the seat as a smile crept over her lips. “What _else_ is new?”

“Hey!” He mock-glared at her, and she laughed outright.

“C’mon Snips, you gotta _trust_ me,” he said impishly, a matching smile on his face.

She felt it now too — whatever mood had taken him was lightening, and whatever was replacing it was contagious. Or maybe it was the Mandalorian spice heating her blood. Whichever it was, Ahsoka liked it. She grinned at him, suddenly feeling inexplicably giddy. “For some reason, Skyguy, I still do.”

Beneath the teasing, she meant it. The truth of it resonated in the bond.

The impishness of his smile tempered to something warmer that bled into the Force and settled pleasantly between them. His adjustments complete, he strapped in and sat back, and when he looked over at her that warmth lit his eyes. “Well then, how close do you think I can fly to Obi-Wan’s window?”

Her eyes narrowed, but her grin widened. The warmth was infectious too, blooming in her chest along with something she later realized was _content_. “...Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?”

Anakin simply raised a mischievous eyebrow in response, and then hit the throttle abruptly.

With a shout of her laughter, they peeled out into the night.

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this story grew legs. Originally it started with the restaurant scene and it was Anakin who got to experience the noseburn (which I understand to be like wasabi or horseradish), and then the last speeder scene sort of wrote itself, and then the setup scene did, and Anakin and Ahsoka’s conversation wrote itself in as well. I almost pulled it, honestly, because I felt like it was sort of a Chekhov’s Gun that didn’t fire. But I ended up leaving it in because it ties in with the overarching themes in TCW pretty well.
> 
> All of the Mandalorian foods/terms I mentioned are indeed from Star Wars. Skraan’ikase is something like meze or tapas, small plates. The descriptions of some of them I took from meze.
> 
> As ever, please let me know what you think! Comments make my day!


End file.
